Christmas in July
by Radella Hardwick
Summary: This is a preview of my upcoming series of Torchwood fanfics. Basically, the team spend Christmas at Jacque's place. In this out-of-season one-shot there are no introductions, I jump in feet first. You Have Been Warned.


_Christmas in July_

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Torchwood characters, places or objects.****  
AN: My first one-shot! Yay! I hope you enjoy it.  
Warning: To re-iterate, this fits in part way through a new series of fanfics, which means no explanations or introductions.**

It was the week before Christmas and nothing was stirring, not even a Weevil.  
The team were in the boardroom eating pizza, yet again.

"Does anyone have any plans for Christmas?" Jack asked, grabbing the last slice of Margherita.

"No."

"I was hoping to spend at least Christmas Day with Rhys."

"Not really."

"We'll be working, won't we sir?"

"Right! That settles things. You lot are all invited to my place for Christmas Day, and I'm not taking 'no' for an answer. That includes you Jack." Jacque scooped up the very last slice and devoured it quickly.

"What about Rhys?" asked Gwen, sounding as if Jacque had categorically said he was not allowed.

"Of course he can come. We'll have a grand time of it. I saw that Jack," this last was in response to her boss's smirk at her turn of phrase.

"We might be needed in London, though," said Ianto, who was probably uncomfortable about the idea of celebrating Christmas the way Jacque did.

"Well, London will have to cope without us," Jack answered. "I think this is going to be a Christmas to remember."

"You can be sure of that much," said Jacque, grinning at the rest of the team.

J&J

Jacque woke at roughly 8:00 and unpacked the stockings from her brother and parents. After completing a few of the problems in the logic problems magazine that had provided the spine of her parents' stocking, she went down to start the turkey and lamb shoulder cooking before going out to church. It was a good, thought-provoking sermon about shoes but once it was over she had food for seven hungry people to prepare.  
Jacque's door-bell went for the first time at 11:47. She put down the carrot she had been chopping and, after drying her hands, went and opened the door. Much to her surprise and pleasure, it was Ianto he was wearing black jeans and an open-necked, dark green shirt and was carrying a Marks & Spencers carrier-bag.

"Merry Christmas, Ianto."

"Merry Christmas. May I come in?"

"Of course," Jacque laughed and stepped aside to allow him entrance. They went through to what she called the 'family room', which was a combined lounge, dining-room and kitchen.

"What would you like to drink? I've got red and white wine or there's cider and champagne in the fridge, as well as some soda."

"White wine, please. Is there anything I can do to help with dinner?" he asked in his usual polite, deferential, tone. Jacque grabbed a flute from the counter and filled it nearly to the brim before passing it to him.

"I don't really think there's anything to _do_. Well, I suppose, the table needs setting, could you please?" Jacque went back to her carrots as Ianto began to lay the table, they found that they worked very well together. The door-bell went again just as Jacque had put the carrots on to steam. She left Ianto to his own devices, he having finished with the table. When she opened the door this time, it was Gwen and Rhys. Jacque wished them both a "Merry Christmas" before pecking Gwen on the cheek and shaking Rhys' hand. Once the greetings were out of the way Rhys gave her their contribution to dinner, a Black Forest Gâteau. She led them through to the family room, where Ianto was inspecting the photos on the wall. This was his, or any of the Torchwood team's, for that matter, first chance to look at both her life before Torchwood and how she ordered her life in general. She did not have pictures of every one of her birthdays but there were photos of a boy at each of his consecutive birthdays up until his 21st , Jacque was, however, in all of the birthday photos.

"Who's the young man in the photos?" Ianto asked out of curiosity.

"Oh, so you _do_ have a boyfriend!" Gwen chipped in before Jacque could answer.

"No," Jacque laughed. "Do you mean the guy in the birthday pics?" – Ianto nodded – "That would be my little brother, Rob. Now, what can I get you two to drink?" The words had barely left her mouth before the bell went again. It was Owen.

"My goodness, who would have thought you'd scrub up this well?" He was wearing dark, canvas trousers with a light-blue shirt over the top.

"Happy Christmas, Jacque. D'ya like it? I wasn't too sure." He was grinning at her nervously.

"You look great. Stop fretting and come in, before you get pneumonia. And a merry Christmas to you too." She pecked him on the cheek before taking him through. As soon as she was in the kitchen she started on getting drinks, in case one of the others was about to turn up.

"So that was red wine for Gwen, beer for Rhys and Pilsener for the more discerning Owen?" Jacque joked as she brought the drinks across. The laughter had only just died down as the door-bell went for the fourth time. "Who d'ya think it is? Any bets?" asked Jacque, who was getting bored of being a jack-in-the-box.

"A fiver says it's Jack," Owen said with a grin that betrayed more confidence than it should.

"If it was Jack then he would of rung again by now. So, I'll take your bet," reasoned Gwen. Jacque smiled and went to find out who was gracing her doorstep now.

"Merry Christmas, Jacque."

"Happy Christmas. Come on through, Gwen'll be glad to see you." Jacque's grin merely broadened as she followed Tosh down the hall. As soon as they entered Gwen jumped up and hugged the petite, Japanese woman before turning to Owen, hand palm up. Once Owen had coughed up and Jacque had gotten the latest arrival a glass of Japanese beer, which she had bought especially, the guests set about arranging the gifts they had brought on or under the over-decorated tree. Tosh and Ianto had joined Jacque on the settee, while Owen, Gwen and Rhys were still emptying their carrier-bags when the bell rang to announce the final member of their party.

"What d'ya reckon? Do ya think he'll've changed his attire for today?"

"I'm not putting any money on it but I think he will 'ave," Owen said and then blew his cheeks out. There were nods of agreement from the rest of the Torchwood team, except Ianto.

"Jack in any other outfit, just wouldn't be Jack," he declared as the bell was held and then pressed twice in quick succession.

"All right, all right! I'm a-coming, hold ya horses, Jack," the hostess called as she half-skipped, half-jogged down the hall. She wrenched the door open as fast as she could, and there he was in navy-blue suit trousers and a yellow shirt with the top three buttons undone.

"And very merry Christmas to you," Jacque said with a grin before kissing him lightly on each cheek.

"Happy Christmas, Jacque." Jack swiftly kissed her on the cheek and then walked away down the corridor, an old-fashioned army kit-bag swinging by his side.

"OK, Jack." Jacque swept into the kitchen as her boss unpacked his bag, which contained a myriad of presents. "Beer, pilsener, red wine, white wine, champagne, Coke, Sprite or ginger beer?" Everyone was giving her looks of utter incredulity and then Owen started to laugh, which turned out to be highly infectious.

"Just water please, Jacque." The hostess glowered at him, indicating that that was an unacceptable answer. "OK, but I'll leave the champagne for later." Jack winked at her, his features alight with his trademark grin. "What red have you got?"

"Do you really want to know the answer?" Ianto inserted and everyone cracked up again.

"He's right: I've got two bottles of fair-trade, South African Merlot; a Californian Cabernet; and, two Australian Shiraz. But I was thinking of opening the Sekt anyway." She had said it so casually that only Rhys did a double-take.

"What's Sekt?"

"The German name for champagne that is not from the Champagne region in France," Jacque informed him with a rather superior tone. She opened one of the champagne bottles, filled two flutes and handed one to Jack. "Right, now. My family, and so me, do present opening slightly differently. Basically, someone gets a present from the tree for _someone else_ and then whoever receives the gift is the next to go and get something. All clear?" There were general nods of agreement. "OK! Jack, why don't you go first, as you're down there?" Jack got onto all-fours, thus presenting his behind as a prime target: which was what his team had been waiting for. All five of Jack's colleagues produced pea-shooters loaded with paper balls and all took aim at their boss's rear before shooting. All five missiles found their target, making Jack whip around like a shot.

"Oi! You lot are in for it now." And he charged at them: Jacque dodged down the hall into her bedroom, Gwen slipped in behind her. Barely two seconds had passed before someone began to pound on the door.

"Jack..., there's only one way... you're coming into... my bedroom...: over my dead body!" Jacque called through the door between burst of laughter.

"Is that right?" The two women could practically hear his face splitting grin. He then rammed the door but Gwen and Jacque's combined weight held it fast.

"Jack!" the hostess called in a distressed tone of voice. "You might damage the door." That was the last straw, Jack and Gwen both dissolved into gales of laughter. Jacque opened the door to find her boss slumped against the wall opposite. "Honestly, you two. Shall we get back to business?" The two slumped forms nodded, Gwen pushed herself up. However, Jack held out a hand to Jacque, who grabbed it and dragged him to his feet, nearly falling over backwards herself. He caught her up to him and she grinned at him. "You've still got to pick a present," she reminded him.

J&J

Two hours and much unwrapping later, everyone sat down to Christmas dinner.  
Rhys had been delighted with the drinking game from Owen and the novelty ties which Jacque had given him. His girlfriend was equally pleased with a flowery perfume, courtesy of Ianto, and Jacque's present of a silver chain and amber pendant. Jacque gave an awe-inspired Tosh a beautifully bound and illustrated English version of Gaston Leroux's famous 1911 novel, _The Phantom of the Opera_, which was in complete contrast with the gift from Jack – the most advanced mobile that wasn't on the market. Owen received a set of engraved crystal glasses from Tosh and the complete Queen collection by kind donation of Jacque. The hostess had also seen fit to give a copy of _English Poetry for the Young_ to Jack, who was also given a journal and the Morse box-set by Gwen.  
Jacque herself received a locket, which had a heart-shaped amethyst set into the front, from Ianto; hardback copies of _Dracula_ and _Frankenstein_ paid for by Rhys; the _Dracula 2000_ DVD, which she had wanted since she was 14, and a crimson satin nightgown courtesy of Gwen; Tosh had tracked down a Japanese calligraphy set, in an ornate black lacquer box, for her; while Owen had gifted her a new pair of slippers and a pair of skull-and-cross-bones earrings with tiny rubies set into diamonds for eyes. Jacque's favourite presents had to be those from Jack: a wonderful array of pens, Nikelback's first album and, best of all, a photo album with pictures documenting her life with Torchwood so far. But what made the album so extraordinary was that at the very back there were pictures of her Scottish great-grandmother from when she was a young woman, from when she was a battle-field nurse during the second world war. There was one picture, in particular, that made Jacque smile, her great-grandmother sitting side-saddle on her motorbike with two young men standing to either side of her behind the bike. On the left was Jack and to the other side was her future husband, George Hunter, all three were in uniform.

"I definitely prefer your current hairstyle," she laughed but there was a sad gleam in her eye.

"You think?" Jack said, ruffling his own hair. "I've been thinking about unearthing my oil... and comb." The pair of them burst out laughing.

"What are you two laughing at?" Gwen asked with a grin.

"Oh, just this picture of Jack and my great-grandparents."

"I'm they got married, I always thought they were perfectly matched. Did you know that I was the one who persuaded him to ask her to dance the first time? He'd been claiming for weeks that he didn't fancy her." Jack was smiling at the face of Ruth Kingsley.

"How drunk was– I mean, how drunk did you get him?" laughed her great-granddaughter.

"Me?" Jack said with fake innocence. "When have ever got someone drunk?" His whole team looked at him incredulously and then all started to speak at once.

"Shall I go fetch the list, sir?"

"What about me?"

"Remember that time in Caerphilly?"

"Clare and Allen?"

"Like I said, how drunk did you get him?" Jack chuckled and finished his second glass of Merlot before answering.

"I swear, hand on my heart, that he wasn't drunk." Jacque raised an eyebrow at him. "He hadn't finished his first pint, I swear. It was Christmas," explained Jack. Jacque gave a cry of surprise and dashed down the hall to her bedroom. She came back a couple of minutes later with an old, leather-bound photo album.

"Here we are," Jacque said, opening the album to the first photograph and handed it to Jack.

"She was the belle of the ball," Jack murmured with a smile.

"Honestly, you too," Owen said in mock-exasperation as he gave them their glasses of champagne before handing the others theirs.

"What's the toast?" Rhys asked.

"Health... happiness... and love." The three women answered in turn: first Gwen, then Tosh followed by Jacque.

"Health, happiness and love," they all said together a drank deeply. Jacque put down her glass and picked up the album.

"My granddad always said I looked just like her," she murmured.

"You do, Jacque. You're the spitting image of her."

**AN: If you liked this then keep an eye out for the series.  
Oh... please review.**


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